


Confessions Require Creativity

by ninjashield5



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Friends, Confessions, Dinosaurs, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, arts and crafts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 08:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19437349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjashield5/pseuds/ninjashield5
Summary: Yamaguchi has been in love with Tsukishima for years, but he's only been planning to confess for six months. After that long half year, he finds the perfect way to tell his best friend how he feels.





	Confessions Require Creativity

Yamaguchi has spent the past six months trying to figure out how to confess to Tsukishima.

He’s known that he likes Tsukishima for years now. Yamaguchi has a good head on his shoulders, and it only took him a few months to realize what the twisting and fluttering of his heart around the blond meant. He never bothered to act on it, but only because he’s always been the closest person to Tsukishima anyway. It didn’t seem necessary.

But half a year ago, something shifted. Yamaguchi doesn’t know _why_ , but he suddenly wanted _more_. He didn’t worry too much about trying to find the reasoning, though, because it would be difficult to pinpoint it. He suspects it was probably the culmination of ten years of feelings building up until they finally burst. He suddenly wondered what it would be like to call their study sessions dates and to call his best friend his boyfriend.

They were opening presents a few days before Christmas because they’d be departing their shared apartment to visit their individual homes for the actual holiday. Tsukishima was meticulously pulling apart the ribbon and peeling away the striped wrapping paper from the gift Yamaguchi gave him and muttering about how he didn’t need to wrap it for him. Watching him, Yamaguchi suddenly felt like he was yanked up by the ankles, tipped upside down, and shaken down so all of his emotions would fall from his pockets like loose coins.

Nothing particularly special was happening. Tsukishima grumbled like this every time Yamaguchi gave him a present because the freckled boy _always_ wrapped them to the best of his ability, and Tsukishima was careful each time. It was a familiar scene. But it made Yamaguchi feel dizzy and it made his heart erratic. And he didn’t know why, of all things, this scene is what caused the flushing of his cheeks.

He just knew he felt a pang of regret at not putting a tiny heart next to the name _Tsukki_ on the sticker label fastened to the wrapping.

When Tsukishima smiled at the present, Yamaguchi felt his heart jump into his throat. He had to resist the urge to fling his arms around the taller man and squeeze him until he was sure to receive complaints.

So, he figured he may as well confess. Yamaguchi couldn’t see a reason not to act on the shift in his feelings. He was never actually that worried about it, which surprised him. For all of his insecurities, Tsukishima’s opinion on him hasn’t been one of them in a long time. He knows that to an outsider, their friendship often looks like a puppy following a robot around, but Yamaguchi is well-aware that their relationship is as two-sided as any. For a while, whenever asked about it, Yamaguchi was proud to say that it was _Tsukishima_ who suggested that they move in together. Yamaguchi isn’t the only one who likes being close.

Of course, the absolute worst case scenario is that Tsukishima will click his tongue, glare, call Yamaguchi pathetic, and disappear from his life, never to be seen again. But that is so unlikely it’s laughable. Yamaguchi figures that Tsukishima’s put up with him for this long (if Yamaguchi is feeling brave, he might even go so far as to proclaim that Tsukishima _enjoys_ his company), and some extra feelings won’t change that even if Tsukishima doesn’t feel the same. It might be awkward at first, but if Tsukishima doesn’t feel the same, Yamaguchi predicts that Tsukishima will just roll his eyes and tell him to shut up before drowning him out with his headphones.

If Yamaguchi ever feels confident in anything, it’s that Tsukishima will continue to put up with him.

He just doesn’t know how to confess.

He could just go the plain and simple route and tell Tsukishima outright. There are plenty of opportunities given that they see each other daily. And direct approaches are, honestly, probably the best when it comes to the blond.

But that’s so boring. And Yamaguchi doesn’t want to be boring when he confesses to Tsukishima. A small part of him wants it to be so special that Tsukishima finds it _annoying_. Yamaguchi doesn’t know what to do with that part of himself because being annoying isn’t exactly a good thing.

A few months ago, the two went with their college’s volleyball team to a botanical garden. It was a weird field trip, and the only reason they were provided was that their captain wanted to look at flowers to mentally prepare for their match. Naturally, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima ended up alone together. And among all the pretty flowers, it would have been the perfect romantic place to confess. The map even showed that there was a gazebo nearby. A gazebo! Those are romantic as heck.

As he discreetly led Tsukishima toward the gazebo, hoping it would be empty, Yamaguchi had even gotten so far as saying, “Hey, Tsukki, this is a really nice place, huh?” because he didn’t really know how to naturally get to a confession. Blurting it out at random seemed like the wrong way to go.

He’d been quickly shut down as Tsukishima swatted at the air: “There are bugs everywhere.”

Then, one of their other team members spotted them before they got to the gazebo, and they were roped into another section of the garden.

He’s also considered playing to Tsukishima’s interests. He could give Tsukishima a playlist of love songs; he would title it “Get a Hint.” But, as Yamaguchi learned years ago, Tsukishima doesn’t listen to other people’s playlists. And even if he did, he wouldn’t pay attention to lyrics or anything; it’s all just for background noise. So, Tsukishima would likely not get the hint.

When Yamaguchi saw the cakes in the patisserie a brief walk away from campus, he considered that. Some of the chocolate slices had swirly English piped on in more chocolate. He saw some customers had plates with words spelled elegantly along the rims beside their treats. He could bring Tsukishima to the patisserie and get something with the words “I’ve been in love with you for years,” written on or beside it. Or at least “I like like you.” But none of the strawberry shortcakes had writing, and Yamaguchi just knew that Tsukishima wouldn’t give the words a second thought even if they did. And don’t even start about the writing on the plates. He knew they would just get swiped up by Tsukishima’s fork, licked away before being read.

He could take Tsukishima stargazing or to a planetarium and tell him, “You’re actually way more beautiful than the moon,” but Yamaguchi figures Tsukishima is tired of the wordplay by now. Plus, the light pollution is awful near campus, and the nearest planetarium is a few hours away; he checked.

Yamaguchi played with the idea of spelling out a confession in volleyballs, but when he tried lining them up in the large gym, writing something random for practice, the balls just kept rolling away. And then his teammates came in and just started plucking them from the floor, completely ruining it.

Yamaguchi would love to do something dinosaur-related, but they’re kind of extinct. And he’s given Tsukishima so much Jurassic Park merchandise over the years that confessing like that would be overkill. Though, he has a feeling Tsukishima would appreciate it if Yamaguchi re-watched one of the movies with him and whispered loving words in his ear as people ran from dinosaurs on screen.

However, a tired grocery run proves to Yamaguchi that a prehistoric confession isn’t so far out of reach.

When Yamaguchi comes home from grocery shopping, Tsukishima is studying his head off despite knowing everything and then some already.

“I have a reward for you,” Yamaguchi tells him after poking Tsukishima’s headphones enough to get him to take them off. Tsukishima stares at him blankly. “For after your test. Since you’re studying so hard.”

“I don’t need some kind of reward system,” Tsukishima tells him.

“Good. Because this is a one-time thing.”

Yamaguchi holds one finger up before pulling a brown cardboard dinosaur from his reusable shopping bag. Tsukishima looks startled, but pleasantly so. Instead of handing Tsukishima the dinosaur, Yamaguchi places a kids paint palette in the blond’s palm.

“After you ace your test — because we both know you will — we’re gonna paint these. Custom dinos. We can display them somewhere.” There’s a second dinosaur still in the bag.

Tsukishima maintains a fairly neutral expression as he looks over the figure, but Yamaguchi doesn’t miss the way the corners of his friend’s lips twitch, just barely. Tsukishima puts down the paints and picks up the dinosaur. He sees the faint gleam in Tsukishima’s eyes, and of course, he notices the way that Tsukishima holds the dinosaur, like there’s no way anyone could pry it from his hands. Tsukishima will go to the grave with that figure.

This is the expression Yamaguchi was expecting — and hoping for — when he saw the dinosaurs. The arts and crafts section is adjacent to the stationary aisle, so in his hunt for mechanical pencil lead refills, Yamaguchi couldn’t help that he was sucked into the array of charcoal pencils and paints and markers and sketchbooks. And dinosaurs. He’s not really sure why the dinosaurs were there, but he’s glad they were. As soon as he saw them, he thought of just how much Tsukishima would likely enjoy them. He didn’t even think twice about buying them.

In the transition from high school to college, Tsukishima left all of his dinosaur plushes at his parents’ house. “I’m not taking plush animals to college, Yamaguchi,” he’d said when Yamaguchi was watching the dinosaurs mournfully, preparing to pretty much never see them again despite having become such a constant to him in all of his visits to the Tsukishima household. Tsukishima did, however, keep many other dinosaurs in his life. But they were all small, like the tiny plastic stegosaurus that dangles from his key to the apartment.

Now he has one to personalize and put on display. And it’s actually kind of big.

“Now, get back to studying.” Yamaguchi plucks the figure from Tsukishima’s hands and stumbles back, having expected more resistance. He wiggles the dinosaur in his hand after recovering. “You should be newly motivated now.”

Of course, the craft project has nothing to do with Tsukishima’s test, but it had better be a good excuse. Yamaguchi spent the entire walk home figuring it out in his head.

Tsukishima clicks his tongue as Yamaguchi packs the dinosaurs and paint back into the grocery bag they came from. Yamaguchi just rolls his eyes and finishes unpacking the rest of the groceries. He notes that Tsukishima puts his headphones back on his ears and his pencil back to the paper, continuing to work ever-so-diligently and possibly more eagerly than before.

—

On Friday after classes — after Tsukishima’s test — Yamaguchi and Tsukishima both don old clothes. They were just about to give these shirts away. Luckily, the donation bag tends to sit in the corner of the apartment for way longer than necessary.

Yamaguchi hunts down a hair tie and pulls his hair into a ponytail. He hasn’t allowed himself the time to cut it in the past year because if he has time to get a haircut, then he can use it to study or practice, and now it’s pretty long. In the meantime, Tsukishima opens up the paints. And the windows. He even goes and gets cups of water and the paintbrushes while Yamaguchi just sits there.

When Tsukishima finally settles, Yamaguchi thinks he vaguely resembles a puppy waiting to get a treat.

It’s cute.

Yamaguchi lets Tsukishima take his pick of the two dinosaurs. Yamaguchi doesn’t have much opinion on it; despite Tsukishima’s fondness of them and Yamaguchi’s fondness of Tsukishima, he knows very little about dinosaurs.

After selecting the triceratops, Tsukishima immediately sets to work. He doesn’t start with the paints, though. His fingers fly across his laptop keyboard as he starts looking up references.

“You’re going realistic?” Yamaguchi asks, though he shouldn’t be surprised. He reaches for one of the two wet paintbrushes and pokes it into the white paint. He needs to lay down a base coat first, but then he’ll be going for the purple. His brachiosaurus will be anything but realistic.

“Of course,” Tsukishima says, “It shouldn’t be any other way.”

“I’m giving mine polka dots,” Yamaguchi says, just to get a rise of Tsukishima. He doesn’t get one. Tsukishima regards him with furrowed brows and a frown, but he’s silent. Yamaguchi grins cheekily at him, and Tsukishima answers Yamaguchi’s grin by tugging gently on his stubby ponytail.

After flipping through images, Tsukishima follows in giving his triceratops a base coat. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it right.

An hour later, Yamaguchi’s dinosaur has purple feet and a purple tail, and Tsukishima’s dinosaur has a coat of the blandest color Yamaguchi’s ever seen. They’re waiting for paint to dry, but obviously, they’re not going to just watch it.

Instead, Yamaguchi streaks purple from his brush onto Tsukishima’s forearm. It’s an accident; he intended to move the brush toward the cup of water, but he got a little too close to skin. Yamaguchi doesn’t act like it was unintentional, snickering as Tsukishima blinks at the line.

Tsukishima draws his eyes away from his arm to look at Yamaguchi, who looks far too proud of himself. Obviously, retaliation is in order.

Tsukishima reaches for his own brush, but instead of using the swampy color already on it, he washes the brush off and gets fresh blue paint on it. Yamaguchi watches curiously, and his attention is still held rapt even when the brush moves toward his face.

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen, and soon enough, he’s laughing hysterically as Tsukishima messily dots as many of his freckles as he can with blue.

It doesn’t take long for this to evolve into a full-out paint fight.

It’s a small fight and definitely not of the long-range variety. But fingers have been dipped in paint and the dinosaurs have been relocated so that they can indulge in their childish play without ruining their masterpieces.

Tsukishima actually hasn’t gotten his hands dirty yet; he keeps to the brushes, taking mini time-outs to clean them off. Yamaguchi, however, has a rainbow on his hands, and he’s not afraid to use it. This much is clear when he uses his thumb to push a large green dot onto the tip of Tsukishima’s wrinkled up nose.

Eventually, their figures dry enough to paint some more. Yamaguchi washes his hands, but in general, the pair remain painted on and messy. Between every coat of paint, their fight resumes as if it never stopped. By the time their dinosaurs are done, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima might have more paint on themselves than on the dinosaurs. They’re definitely more colorful.

Yamaguchi’s delighted that Tsukishima played along. It feels like it’s not often that he’s able to successfully drag the blond into childish shenanigans like this one. But for someone who exudes _cool_ and _mature_ vibes, Tsukishima really knows how to play. At least, he does now.

For a while, Yamaguchi was worried that Tsukishima was actually a middle-aged man trapped in a young body, bitter and mean because of it. But no, Tsukishima really is a young man. He’s just bitter and mean for fun. Yamaguchi doesn’t have anything against that; he thinks it’s fun too.

Yamaguchi washes his hands for a final time in the kitchen sink while Tsukishima hits up the shower to wash off the paint he was assaulted with. By the time they get to doing that, the final coats are nearly finished drying.

There are several Sharpies in the kitchen’s junk drawer, so Yamaguchi pokes around until he finds a silver one. Black won’t work for this.

Once he hears the shower turn on and he’s certain his dinosaur is dry, he picks it up and uncaps his Sharpie.

—

Yamaguchi rushes into the shower as soon as Tsukishima is done, and if the blond thinks the hustle is strange, he doesn’t say anything. When Yamaguchi is done, he steps out to see Tsukishima with Yamaguchi’s rainbow dinosaur in his lap.

Tsukishima looks over at Yamaguchi and stares for a long moment as Yamaguchi moves closer.

“This is for me, right?” Tsukishima asks. Yamaguchi catches the faint quiver in his voice.

“Yeah, I don’t need it.”

“And it’s from you?”

Yamaguchi raises an eyebrow. “You watched me paint it.”

Tsukishima squints at Yamaguchi before looking back down at the dinosaur. Along the brachiosaurus’s side are words scrawled in silver: _Tsukki, I’m in love with you_. Tsukishima blinks at the words slowly as if processing them. But Yamaguchi knows he read them over and over already. He made sure of that, positioning the figure right where Tsukishima couldn’t possibly miss it.

“You love me,” Tsukishima says as Yamaguchi sits beside him. Yamaguchi peers at the taller man, taking in the way his glasses sit across his face, not quite an effective barrier for the splotchy red blush rising on Tsukishima’s cheeks. Yamaguchi can’t help but smile when he sees the red creep up all the way to the tips of Tsukishima’s ears, vibrant against the pale skin.

He wonders just how red Tsukishima would get if he kissed him. How pink the blond’s lips would turn and how warm his cheeks would get.

Yamaguchi should probably be in a panic right now. But he feels strangely calm. The quick beat of his heart feels familiar, and the heat on his face feels comforting. Rather than being worried about the confession, he just feels more sure about his feelings. Yes, he definitely loves Tsukishima. He loves this blunt boy with poor eyesight and golden hair.

“I do,” Yamaguchi says. A wave of confidence washes over him, and he can’t help the crooked grin that splits his face. “And I think it would be a great idea for you to go out with me. I have a list of reasons if you need them.” He doesn’t. In hindsight, it might have been wise to prepare a list to appeal to Tsukishima’s love of logic. He could have written them all on the dinosaur, on the other side: _Top 10 Reasons to Date Tadashi_. But he knows he can probably come up with something on the spot if he really needs to.

Thankfully, he doesn’t need to give Tsukishima any reasons. The blond already knows.

“That would be a good idea,” Tsukishima agrees.

Yamaguchi blinks at him. The smirk on his lips softens and stretches into a wide smile. “A _great_ idea,” he corrects.

Tsukishima’s expression cracks as his lips turn upward and his eyes soften. “Yes, a great idea.” He runs a finger along the dinosaurs long neck, tracing the streak of pink Yamaguchi left there. “Because I love you too.”

Yamaguchi feels like he could faint. But he doesn’t; instead, he scoots closer to Tsukishima. He doesn’t hug him or kiss him or even put an arm around him. He just knocks their shoulders together. Carefully, Tsukishima slides his hand toward Yamaguchi’s, loosely entwining their fingers.

Tsukishima’s cheeks turn even redder, and Yamaguchi knows that his own freckles are doing nothing to conceal the red hue his own cheeks are undoubtedly taking on.

He wishes it hadn’t taken him six months to figure out how to confess; clearly, it would have gone well no matter how he did it. But the effort is worth it.

Tsukishima proves that it was worth the effort when he displays both dinosaurs in his room. The silver confession faces out toward the room, right above Tsukishima’s desk.


End file.
